


Quiet Morning

by ladyhoneydarlinglove



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:10:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyhoneydarlinglove/pseuds/ladyhoneydarlinglove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik shares an intimate moment with Altair upon waking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Morning

The sun is just beginning to creep over the horizon when Malik wakes, filling the room with a dim, hazy light. He comes to slowly, mind foggy with fading dreams and a desire to cling to sleep a little while longer, but Malik is a disciplined man, and pushes these thoughts aside easily. Already his mind begins to lie out his day for him, every correspondence to answer, meeting to attend to, training to oversee. It will be long and exhausting, but Malik is used to this by now; the thought does not deter him.

Malik does not leave the bed right away, though he knows he should. Instead, Malik turns to gaze at the man sleeping next to him; Altair has twisted oddly in his sleep, back against the mattress but hips turned to the side, away from Malik. The lines on his face are smoothed out; in the dim light of the early morning, Altair looks peaceful in a way that he never does when awake.  The sight makes Malik pause, not ready to leave as he was a moment ago. Rather, he finds himself wishing to stay, to cling to these small, undisturbed moments that they share, so rare as they are.

Malik moves, draping an arm over Altair’s waist and pressing a soft kiss to the base of Altair’s neck. He does not mean for the gesture to disturb Altair, but the Grandmaster shifts beneath him, and when Malik raises his head to look, Altair’s eyes, though hazy with sleep, are open. Malik removes his arm, frowning. “I am sorry,” he whispers. “I did not mean to wake you.”

Altair blinks slowly before sighing and reaching to drag Malik’s arm back over him, sighing in content when Malik does not hesitate to curl himself around Altair further. “Don’t be,” Altair murmurs, closing his eyes. “I would not have slept for much longer anyway. Though you did disturb me from a rather pleasant dream.”

“Oh?” Malik presses a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of Altair’s mouth. “What about?”

Altair smiles lazily. “You,” he answers, and Malik snorts.

“Me?” he asks. “Why on earth would you be dreaming about me?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Altair says, voice light, teasing, ending on gasp as Malik’s hand drifts down and glides over the half-hard erection that he hadn’t noticed before. It makes him smile, though he hides it, burying his face in Altair’s neck, running his tongue along the warm flesh. Altair shivers beneath him as Malik takes him in hand, stroking Altair in long, languid motions.

Malik had not planned to spend his morning this way; knows, in the back of his mind, that there are far more productive things that he should be doing. But Altair is warm and pliant beneath him as Malik maneuvers over the other man, and he cannot bring himself to pull away.

“Malik,” Altair murmurs, and Malik shivers as Altair runs calloused fingers over his spine, pressing against the dip of his lower back. He answers by claiming Altair’s lips in a slow, easy kiss, relishing the way Altair opens up to him so readily; a power that Malik and Malik alone can claim from the Grandmaster. The knowledge is heady, and it makes Malik bold as he simultaneously claims Altair’s mouth and gives his erection a hard, powerful stroke. Altair makes a soft noise, body going tight for a moment as the feeling courses through him, and Malik smiles.

It isn’t long before Malik finds himself reaching for the oil they keep nearby, shorter still before he has two fingers inside Altair, growing increasingly impatient as he watches the way Altair’s stomach goes taut, breath catching in his throat. The noises Altair makes are soft, barely audible; but Malik drinks up every single one and savors them, these sounds that only he will ever hear.

Malik kisses Altair sloppily as he pushes into the other man, concentration fading for a moment amidst the sensation. His own breath comes hot and heavy, and Malik struggles for a moment to maintain control of himself as he begins a slow, steady rhythm. He knows Altair could handle it if he did not, but that is not what Malik wants from this. He wants this to be slow, to watch Altair fall to pieces beneath him, to become achingly desperate for his completion, and Altair does not disappoint. His noises are soft and pleading as Malik moves, his hands coming to rest upon Malik’s side. Altair bites his lip with a muffled moan as Malik makes a particularly hard thrust and Malik groans in response, unable to help himself as he captures Altair’s lips in a rough kiss. And Altair bends to him willingly, mouth opening with ease as Malik claims and plunders, his hand moving under the other man’s head in an attempt to push Altair closer to him, though it doesn’t seem possible. And all the while he never breaks his rhythm, pushing into Altair at his hard, steady pace, again and again and again and again…

Altair is quiet when he comes, head tossing back as he bites his lip so hard it bleeds. Malik follows close behind, no louder as he hides his pleasure in a desperate kiss, body shuddering through his completion. He stays atop Altair as their kiss slows and disintegrates into something softer, until finally Altair pulls away to properly catch his breath, and Malik falls to the side, sated.

His breath is still heavy as Altair shifts against him, moving to face Malik and bury his face in Malik’s neck. Altair presses gentle, open-mouth kisses against the damp skin, a soothing balm to Malik’s frayed nerves. He continues this act for some time, until Malik’s breathing has evened out and his mind begun to clear.

“We should get up,” Malik murmurs as Altair moves back, smiling despite himself when the other man presses a kiss against his closed lips.

“Indeed,” Altair agrees, but makes no movement except to press himself closer to Malik’s side.

Malik sighs and drapes his arm over Altair’s body, eyes slipping shut. They can afford to be late, he decides. This moment—this man—is more important.


End file.
